Where it all Begins...

To begin my story, I have to go back a little bit in time.

I never had much luck with guys. From the time I started liking boys, they NEVER liked me. Ever. Until I was 14. There was a boy at church, and he also went to my school. He was a year older than me, but I just thought he was the best guy. I had a major crush on him in 8th grade, but instead of liking me, he liked one of my very best friends. I didn’t blame her for the situation, but it was very upsetting to me.

I accepted Jesus Christ into my heart that year, and I was going to believe that God had this “perfect” guy for me. I was going to wait for it…but, this guy WAS the guy I was waiting for. I just knew it.

Now, looking back, how can you know at 13 years old who is “THE” guy for you? You really just can’t. Oh, and just so you know, this is not the guy that did heinous things to me, trying to kill me and ruin my life. This is just the first bad heartbreak of my life. I really think it led to me making the choices I did later.

Okay, back to the story.

We went to church camp that summer, and I thought he might like me just a little bit. So, I prayed and prayed that he did. I hoped my friend would not be too hurt when he broke up with her, but, as we all know, young men are fickle creatures. So, in August, he broke up with my friend and started hanging out with me, picking me up from school (he went to the high school, and I was still in jr. high), and he asked me to “go with” him. I couldn’t believe it! All my dreams were coming true.

Only they lasted for a short period of four months. Then, he broke up with me, and I was old news. He moved onto another girl in our small youth group, even younger than my other friend and me by two years. And they stayed together for two years, fawning and pawing all over each other at church. That was very hard to watch each week. I would go home in tears. How could this happen when he is “the one?”

So, I started high school, still caught up in the feelings I had for him, and I just kept hoping that something would happen. I mean, it had to, right?

Well, he moved off to college, and I was finally going to be free from the everyday heartache of seeing him. I know that sounds crazy to be so obsessed with someone at that age, but hey, I thought God told me that he was the guy! I was so wrong.

In April of my Junior year, when I was still 16, my parents introduced me to the son of some friends’ of theirs. He was 19 and wanted to date me, and I hated him. However, as he started pursuing me, romancing me, and as I started spending time with his family, I started falling hard for him. That summer, with my parents’ blessing, we became engaged. And right after my senior year started, he started becoming distant and avoiding calling me (before cell phones), and my parents learned that he was caught with marijuana by his step-dad. My parents made me break it off with him immediately; I couldn’t see him, talk to him, look at him, walk by him, nothing.

I was very angry for a long time about all of this. I sneaked around and saw him anyway. I just didn’t care.

I am a very forgiving person, though, and I learned to forgive as time passed by. I still wasn’t too happy with guys in general, though.

I called my first boyfriend at college and asked him to go to my senior prom with me, and he said yes. I was very excited and nervous. We had quite the night, and that was the night I got over him.

I graduated from high school, started working full-time, going out to one particular bar (that was when you only had to be 18 to get in), and I was having a good time with my life. I still didn’t have a boyfriend, but it was okay.

I started talking to my former fiance’, and he said he would be willing to talk to my parents about us dating again. I didn’t actually HAVE to make him do that, but I wanted them to see if they thought he had changed. I knew I couldn’t trust myself to figure that out.

At the first of the year, 1984, things changed. I met HIM. The man who tried to destroy my life.